It's terrible
The little noise of a hard-boiled egg on a tin countertop
It's terrible, this noise
When it stirs in a man's memory
The face of a hungry man
When he looks at himself at six in the morning
In the mirror of a big store
A dust-coloured face
It's not his face yet he looks
In the window of Potin's
He doesn't care about his face, the man
He doesn't think about it
He ponders
He imagines another face
A calf's face, for example
With a vinegar sauce
Or the face of anything that can be eaten
And he gently moves his jaw
Gently
And he gently grinds his teeth
Because the world makes fun of him
And he can't do anything against the world
And he counts on his fingers one two three
One two three
It's been three days since he has eaten
And no matter how much he kept repeating to himself for three days
It can't last
It lasts
Three days
Three nights
Without eating
And behind these windowpanes
These pastries these bottles these canned foods
Dead fish protected by boxes
Boxes protected by windows
Windows protected by cops
Cops protected by fear
Quite a barricade for six unhappy sardines...
A bit farther is the bistrot
Espresso with milk and warm croissants
The man staggers
And inside his head
A muddle of words
A muddle of words
Sardines to eat
Hard-boiled egg espresso with milk
Alcoholic coffee rum
Espresso with milk
Espresso with milk
Alcoholic espresso with milk damn!*
A very respected man in his quarter
Had his throat cut in plain daylight
The assassin, the vagabond stole
Two francs from him
That is an alcoholic coffee
Zero francs and seventy
Two buttered tarts
And twenty-five cents for the boy's tip

*"Faire la grasse matinée" means to "sleep in", but I wasn't sure what it's meaning was supposed to be here, in a noun form. Perhaps someone has a better suggestion.

*I wasn't sure what role "sang" was supposed to play here... I know "bon sang!" is a type of expletive, but I didn't know if that was what it was supposed to be here or no.